Virtue: A Knight World Novel (Fireborn Wolves Book 2) Page 3

  Long tapered fingers landed on Jason’s forearm and he paused to look at her. “It is clear to me you are struggling with a deeply spiritual issue at this moment,” she said. “I will pray for you, Jason Flynn, and light a candle for you in our sanctuary. If you wish to heal this thing within yourself, please come see us. That’s what the Preotka and her acolytes are for. We help when you can’t figure things out on your own.”

  Jason tried to disguise his scowl. It was well known that the Preotka and her acolytes lived a celibate lifestyle in an effort to enhance their spiritual connection with the next world. Even now, Selene’s expression held not a flicker of cynicism or doubt. She looked at him like he was the only person on this earth and the purpose of her entire existence was to genuinely help him. Fuck. How could he ever accept her help, knowing that if he shared his vice, shared about the things he’d done and wanted to do… he’d be ruining her innocence, tainting the very soul who so generously wanted to help him.

  He grazed his bottom lip along his upper teeth. “I don’t think what’s broken inside me can be fixed.”

  “Preotka Artemis says that brokenness is the first step toward transformation. A caterpillar completely takes itself apart in order to become a butterfly.”

  “Gotta break a few eggs to make an omelet, eh?”

  “She doesn’t mean—”

  He held up a hand. “Save your breath. My egg was fried on the sidewalk a long time ago. The only transformation happening here”—he placed a hand on his gut and winked—“is happening to the burger I had for lunch.”

  She pressed two fingers to her lips, covering a hint of a smile. They’d arrived at the clearing where Laina, Kyle, and Silas were waiting for him.

  “Well, just think about it,” Selene said. “It would be my pleasure to work with you. My door is always open.”

  As he watched Selene drift away, Jason wished he could take advantage of her open door, and not in the religious way. The thought confirmed he was a filthy predator. He sighed. Every moment with Selene would be like looking at his dark soul under a magnifying glass. She was pure, unadulterated virtue. A person like that could make anyone feel unworthy.

  Selene watched Jason cross to his siblings with mild fascination. It wasn’t every day a person got this close to the royal family. Oh, she’d been in Jason’s presence before at pack events and during the shift, although they’d never been formally introduced. It wasn’t odd for a royal to overlook a simple acolyte. But she’d never fully appreciated the rumors until now. He was strikingly handsome up close; her stomach had done an odd little twist when he’d looked at her. And he was charming. Witty. Someone she imagined one could talk to all day without growing weary. Although she detected a darkness in his soul she wasn’t expecting, a darkness she found more disturbing by the minute.

  “What were you talking to Prince Jason about?” Artemis asked, her soft and straightforward smile giving her a younger appearance than her wrinkled skin and gray curls would suggest. She clasped her hands beneath the bell sleeves of her heavy purple robe.

  “I sense something is troubling Jason, Preotka. He has a deep unease about him this day. I suggested it was common for a brother to feel anxious over a sibling’s marriage, but his words seemed to indicate the problem goes deeper.” She shook her head.

  “And his aura?” Artemis was testing her. Aura reading was Preotka magic, something Selene was learning but hadn’t fully mastered, like everything else in her chosen vocation.

  “Muddy, with a green center. Much darker than it should be.” She tangled her fingers beneath the sleeves of her robe, nervous about the accuracy of her reading.

  “I fear you are correct, sister. Are you aware of Jason’s vice?”

  Selene shook her head. She understood that some wolves had vices, intense addictions to things or people that grew stronger near the full moon, but they tended to be relatively harmless and easily fulfilled. Caffeine addiction was common or an increased need for raw meat. Vices were private annoyances, not something most wolves talked about openly.

  “His vice is sex.”

  Heat flushed Selene’s face and she placed her fingers on her warm cheeks in surprise. “But he’s not mated,” she whispered.

  Artemis shook her head. “He has sex with many different women at all times of the month to feed his addiction, and I’ve recently heard his need is getting worse.”

  “But that’s dangerous. Aside from the risk of unintended pregnancies, what must it do to his soul to connect intimately with so many people?” Thank the goddess that werewolves were immune to sexually transmitted infections and couldn’t catch or transmit human diseases. She shivered to think of the risk he’d be taking if they weren’t.

  Artemis nodded her head slowly. “I have seen this before.”

  “You have?”

  “This isn’t a simple vice, Selene. Jason’s human side is addicted as well. It started with the wolf but I fear the addiction has afflicted the man.”

  “What did you do when you saw this before?”

  “Breaking a vice requires intensive spiritual therapy. Only about half of these cases ever recover. Some die.”

  Selene inhaled sharply. “Do you think the prince could die of his vice?”

  “Shhh.” Artemis raised a finger to her lips. “They’ll hear you.”

  “Forgive me.” Selene composed herself, folding her hands in front of her hips and bowing her head.

  “I believe this vice will destroy Jason—if not physically, then emotionally—unless he gains control soon. This need of his has become a dragon. If he continues feeding it, the beast will eat him alive.” Artemis gave Selene a knowing smile.

  “How can you tell, Preotka?”

  The old woman’s rheumy gaze drifted toward the royal family. “Experience. I’ve seen it before, with others.”

  “There must be something we can do.”

  “Vices have been overcome before with help from the goddess. But he must want to be free of his addiction. He must choose a new path.”

  Selene glanced over her shoulder at the group of royals gathered near the makeshift altar. Gerty and her husband Arthur, the king and queen of the woodland fae who called this forest home, had emerged from their trees and were mingling with the rest of the wedding party. Nate, the groom’s brother, had also arrived. It was time to begin the rehearsal.

  Quickly, Selene said, “Perhaps if I spoke to him, let him know we are willing to help and that he has the power to break the spell this vice has over him?”

  “You have my permission to try, Selene. If you succeed, with help from the goddess, I will seriously consider it a sign you are fit for the next level on your spiritual journey.” Artemis kissed her forehead and drifted toward the others.

  A swell of pride filled Selene. The next phase of her spiritual journey was to advance to Preotka, to become priestess. It was the goal of every acolyte to be promoted to priestess and devote her life to serving the spiritual needs of the pack, but most acolytes never made it. Could she be one of the rare exceptions? A werewolf acolyte strong enough to win the goddess’s favor and advance to the most respected role in the priesthood?

  All that stood in her way of achieving the pinnacle of her life’s work was Jason Flynn and his vice.

  Chapter 4

  Jason checked his watch for the third time in fifteen minutes. He loved his sister, but the crawling sensation under his skin was only getting worse. After the incident with Nickelova that morning, his vice should have been appeased for at least twenty-four hours, but the release proved superficial. His wolf was already begging for more, his need like a spring coiled too tight, ready to snap. He pumped his leg and wished Artemis would talk faster.

  “Jason, I want you to carry the gifts for the goddess in the processional.” Laina pointed at a prop platter with plastic fruit.

  “Huh?” A bead of sweat narrowly missed his left eye, prompting a swipe of the back of his hand across his forehead.

  “Silas
is walking me down the aisle. I thought this would be a good way to involve you in the ceremony.”

  With a tight smile, he picked up the tray, blinking rapidly. “Of course. I… I’m happy to.” Surely he could carry a platter of fruit? He licked his lips, his mouth as dry as the Sahara.

  After a nod of appreciation in Jason’s direction, Preotka Artemis began walking them through the ceremony from start to finish. She took extra time with Kyle and his brother Nate since their human upbringing meant they were unfamiliar with pack traditions. Night was upon them, the half-moon bathing the venue in a subtle glow. When Laina and Kyle were in position, practicing their vows, Gerty waved her wand in the air and sent a legion of fireflies to light up the space above their heads. Everyone oohed and ahhed at the display.

  Jason tried to appreciate the beauty around him, but he couldn’t. His hands trembled beneath the tray of fake fruit. He was sweating in earnest now. At the first opportunity, he set the offering down and removed his leather jacket, despite it being a cool spring day.

  “What’s the matter with you?” Silas whispered. “You’re sweating like a wiener on a Fourth of July grill.”

  Jason ran a finger along the inside of his collar. “Feeling a little under the weather. I need a drink.”

  “Did you… feed the wolf?”

  “This morning.” It wasn’t a lie. No need to tell him about Nickelova.

  Silas frowned. “It’s getting worse.”

  “Like a bad flu.”

  “How did this happen? You’ve had this under control for years.”

  “Hell if I know.” The lie was quick and firm, his eyes focused on the altar to make it harder for Silas to detect. Running a hand over his face, Jason decided to do something he never thought he would do. “Can you alpha this out of me, Silas?” He gave his brother a tired laugh. “You know, take the edge off.”

  “That bad, eh?” Silas rubbed the stubble of his chin and contemplated his brother in silence. “I wish it were that easy. When Laina discovered her need for Kyle, I researched breaking a vice with an alpha command.” Silas grimaced. “If history is to be believed, it wouldn’t end well. With a vice like yours, you might not be capable of obeying me. You’d likely do it anyway. The result would be painful, a perpetual hell where you increasingly wanted sex but couldn’t have it without pain. It would drive you insane.”

  “Sounds unpleasant.” Jason rubbed the base of his skull. His headache was back with a vengeance.

  “There is a way to break a vice, though. I read about it in the same texts.”

  “Yeah? How?”

  Silas pointed his chin toward the gray-haired woman reviewing the ceremony at the front of the aisle.

  “Artemis?” Jason scoffed. “Yes, I’m sure a celibate woman twice my age will have helpful tips on how I can wrestle my sexual vice under control.”

  “She’s not just a priestess in name. She and her followers have gifts from the goddess. A little of her voodoo would do you good, give you the advantage to break the hold this vice has over you.”

  “I can’t think of anything more humiliating than talking to the priestess about this.”

  A burly palm slapped his shoulder and shook gently. “She knows, Jason. Everyone knows.”

  Jason narrowed his eyes. “I stand corrected. Knowing she knows is far more humiliating. Do you talk about my vice over coffee?”

  “No. No one had to tell her outright. You’ve been with half the pack, brother. Word gets around.”

  With a deep breath, Jason glanced toward Artemis, but it was the acolyte, Selene, standing behind her that commanded his attention. Dressed in that elegant blush-colored robe, she stared at him as if he were a puzzle she wished to solve. More accurately, she stared through him. She knew, he realized. Those violet, self-righteous eyes cut right through him, no doubt analyzing his soul.

  “Just think about it,” Silas said.

  Jason stared at Selene, picturing her naked and tied spread-eagle to his bed. He wondered if her sex was the same petal pink as her robe. No, Artemis couldn’t help him and neither could Selene. Hell, the way his wolf was eyeing her as his next meal, he’d be wise to stay as far away from her as possible.

  Why is he staring at me? Selene locked eyes with Jason. The look on the man’s face was that of a drowning man. Indeed, the intensity of his stare made her uncomfortable, stirred something deep inside her she hadn’t known was there. Her heart rate increased, its thump steady in her ears, and a tingle started deep within her abdomen. Deep empathy, she thought. A level of compassion she’d never achieved before. With a start, she recognized it must be the goddess calling her to help this man. The strong swelling in her chest was a sign from above.

  But could she do it? Although she’d been trained to treat addictions in general, she knew little about sex. Plus, she’d never put what few skills she had to use before. Not because she didn’t want to, of course. It was simply that an opportunity hadn’t presented itself.

  Jason was obviously uncomfortable. Even from a distance, his face looked flushed and his hands trembled by his sides. His brother and pack alpha, Silas, seemed genuinely concerned. If she could convince Jason to let her help him, not only would she save a member of the royal family from the pain she sensed he was in, but she could ease an obviously strained familial relationship.

  Helping Jason was her first priority, but in the back of her mind, she also felt an urgent need to prove to Artemis she was right for the priesthood. She must talk to him, must convince him to let her help.

  “I believe that covers everything,” Artemis announced from the altar in front of her. “I’ll see you all back here tomorrow for the real thing.”

  As the wedding party broke up and a swell of chatting signaled the happy couple’s departure from the altar, Selene drifted toward Jason, hoping for another chance to convince him to work with her. But when she reached the place where he’d been standing with his brother, he was gone.

  Chapter 5

  Jason rushed from the wedding rehearsal feeling like he had a bad case of poison ivy. His skin itched and burned, and the throb at the base of his skull had grown more intense. Boom, boom, boom. The pain demanded attention.

  He reached into his glove compartment and fished out a bottle of pain relievers, popping the cap and dry-swallowing three. The pounding took on a rhythm, morphing into a voice, Nickelova’s voice. Come to me. Come to me. Her command echoed in his head until it became a stabbing sensation. He rubbed where it hurt the most. Jason had a nagging suspicion the discomfort was only going to get worse unless he found a way to break the curse. He needed help—magic powerful enough to undo what Nickelova had done to him. And he had an idea where he might find it.

  Exiting the highway deep within Carlton City, Jason drove down the alley behind the Mill Wheel Night Club, wishing he’d had the forethought to bring a gun loaded with wooden bullets. A couple making out behind a dumpster turned their heads long enough for the two puncture wounds on the woman’s neck to gurgle blood that ran in lazy rivulets into her cleavage. Fuck, he hated vamps. If he wasn’t desperate for a solution to his Nickelova problem, he’d never risk this part of town.

  He parked under a rectangular tin sign that read Ryker’s Lost Things. The logo was a chipped etching of a boy with a handkerchief on a stick over his shoulder, an unsettling smile on his freckled face. The sign squeaked on rusty hinges as it swung in the evening breeze.

  Jason had loaned Ryker his start-up capital for this place, despite shady references and a business plan that was one step up from a cocktail napkin. Only Ryker proved persuasive, so persuasive that Jason caught on quickly that his aptitude for business wasn’t quite human. And based on the return he’d seen come through his e-mail, the guy had serious connections inside the world of the occult.

  The bell over the door chimed and the smell of dust hit Jason’s nostrils. The inside of Lost Things looked like an episode of hoarders. Stacks of books, artifacts, and shiny objects crowded the doorway. He
had to turn sideways to slip between two large crates of Fabergé eggs, pausing halfway through when a low hum met his superhuman ears. It emanated from one large black egg that gleamed in the dim light, its ebony luster drawing him in. He leaned over for a better look.

  “Don’t touch that,” came a smooth voice from deep within the shop. “Unless you’d like to spend the night locked inside that shiny trinket. I won’t be able to get you out until sunrise. I need to move them into the back room. Haven’t had a chance.”

  Jason stepped back from the eggs and made his way deeper into the dimly lit store. A squat woman waddled up to the counter with a handful of dried lizards. Her T-shirt read, Witches do it in circles.

  “Do you sell these in bulk?” she asked the dark man behind the counter.

  “Five for twenty.”

  The woman plopped down a bill. She waddled out the door, giving a wide clearance to the crate of eggs.

  “Ryker Vandoren, how’s my favorite client?” Jason spread his arms wide.

  The man glanced up from his work and promptly disappeared, becoming a twist of smoke in a blink of an eye. The dark fog rolled over the counter and through the hodgepodge of collectibles. Ryker rematerialized near Jason, smelling of sulfur and dried things. Black eyes burned above a smile that boasted two overdeveloped cuspids. His olive-toned skin seemed to give off its own light in the haze of dust around them.

  “Favorite client?” he asked. “Never try to charm an incubus, Mr. Flynn.” His voice was pure silk and flowed from full lips like a whispered seduction. “It makes you seem insincere.”

  “Call me Jason. I assure you, I’d never attempt to charm you, Ryker. It would be like trying to sell an air conditioner to a polar bear.”

  Ryker blinked upturned eyes, a ghost of a smile turning the corners of his mouth. He narrowed his gaze on Jason. “What brings you here today? I’ve honored our agreement. Are you unhappy with your rate of return?”